As a result, we’ve lost respect for the single photograph. Take wedding photography, for instance. Photographers provide, and brides often expect, hundreds of proofs – thousands in some cases. The wedding album, still the best expression of a wedding in photographs in my opinion, has lost its place to a disc oozing with image files as the key deliverable. Volume is king. Quantity has taken over from quality.

It’s not hard to see why. There is no cost involved in taking a photograph these days if you use a digital camera. Whether you take a thousand photographs or ten, there are no immediate penalties. That’s not to say each frame is a keeper or should be shown. Thing is, we often don’t edit as much as we should.

Delivering hundreds of photographs to a client from a shoot dilutes the individual value of each one. You spend little time lingering over each individual image. You don’t have the time to look at all of them properly. As well, the volume dilutes the impact of a single photograph so you speed through them. Imagine, instead of delivering 200 pretty good photographs, you gave a bride and groom 20 great photographs to savour – each captivating and arresting in their own right. Twenty memorable images. I have no doubt that the individual photographs would be cherished as single heirlooms and as a body of work.

So, the question is: would it be better to shoot to a more limited number of deliverable photographs, regardless of the area you work in?

For sure, it would save on post-production time.

There would, I think, also be an additional benefit. We’d all start to appreciate the single photograph more. We’d start putting a proper price on our work again, and clients would too.

With thanks to Stephen Holmes for raising the question of quality vs quantity in a comment last week.

That said, I am about to embark on a truly long-term project – one that I envisage will only end when I do.

I am the product of three countries. My motherland: the Netherlands; my fatherland: England; and my homeland: Ireland. I have odd relationships with all three. It’s these relationships I’m going to explore through documentary photography.

Like all good projects, it has a name. “Motherland, Fatherland, Homeland”.

Without realizing it, the project started in August last year when I took some snaps at a local agricultural museum in Holland. I was intrigued by the light and how reminiscent it was of the light in the paintings by the Dutch Masters of the 17th century. I felt a connection.

Four of those photographs, which could be called holiday snaps, became my entry for the 2011 IPPA National Photographic Awards pictorial/travel portfolio category. I won the same category last year (also, ironically, with four photographs taken on holiday), and wanted to defend the title so to speak. It was a successful defense.

(c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

In all cases, they were taken with a 50mm lens.

Regular readers will know that I generally favour a wider field of view. However, the 24mm lens I own is fairly big and heavy. I didn’t feel like bringing it along to the Netherlands. Besides, this year I’ve been shooting more with the 50mm anyway.

Eight days with just the 50mm has made me realize just how versatile a lens it is. Just take a peek at the pictures I posted over the last week. In some instances it feels like a telephoto lens; in others like a wide angle. Quite remarkable.

I’m not going to say that only having a single focal length takes a bunch of decision making out of the equation, allowing you to concentrate on the photograph… Ah… I just did. Sorry. It is true though.

The main point I want to make in this short post is this: spending time with only a single focal length is a great training exercise. Thoroughly liberating, it also forces you to get to know the focal length intimately – its strengths, its weaknesses and, most importantly, its possibilities.

My only complaint? That I have to gaffer tape on the lens hood to stop if from dropping off. How is it that lens manufacturers can design and produce such wonderfully advanced optics, but not a lens hood that will stay put?

You might ask why, apart from being a good friend, I’ve selected a landscape photographer to appear on a blog given over mostly to documentary photography.

Simple really. Who says documentary photography has to include people? To my mind, landscape photography is about documenting the natural environment around us. It records the world we live it and often reveals its breathtaking, heart-stopping beauty.

A volcano by Peter Cox. Actually, if you live in Europe, it's THE volcano. You know the one. (c) Peter Cox 2010

What appeals to me about a lot of Peter’s work is the immediacy that I feel looking at it. It’s almost as if there’s nothing between me and the scene. I could almost step into the photograph because it feels so real. That’s a hard thing to do.

Peter is also very good at spotting remarkable things where to the untrained eye they simply don’t exist. Take the picture on the left below. I think it’s genius. The swirl is only revealed thanks to a longish shutter time. In real time, it wouldn’t have such an impact. In the photograph, it does – something Peter pre-visualized.

Two of my favourite Peter Cox photographs. (c) Peter Cox

That in itself raises an interesting question. If a photograph can only show something by virtue of a long exposure that produces an image the naked eye can’t see, is it truly documentary? I would argue that it is. It reveals the world to us in a way we hadn’t perceived. It illuminates. The longish shutter speed helps to describe the swirl (which by the way is a magnificent contrast to the static rock in the background) that we otherwise wouldn’t see. It helps tell the story of the pool of water and of the landscape. And telling stories what documentary photography is all about.

That particular photograph tells another story. Look at the layers in the rock. How many centuries did it take to create them? And how many more for water and wind to erode the rock to its current state?

The final photograph here is another favourite. The Dark Hedges in Co. Antrim. They look as if they were designed by Tolkien. What I love in particular is the way Peter has revealed the structure and form of the branches. There is almost a motion to them. That takes craft.

While shopping for a suit, I found a copy of the January 2010 issue of Professional Photographer magazine with the results of its 2009 awards. I knew I’d been shortlisted in the Social Reportage/Wedding category, but didn’t know what had come of it. Turns out my entry, which was reproduced in the magazine, was commended. That’s jury speak for “Very Good, But Not Quite Good Enough”.

Still, better than a kick in the teeth, no?

Commended in the 2009 "Professional Photographer" magazine awards. (c) Roger Overall 2009

I should also point out that the results were recently announced for the European Photographer of the Year Awards.

I entered two categories … [drum roll] … and didn’t make a mark in either.

The next awards to be announced that are relevant to me are the National Photographic Awards here in Ireland. That’s not until the end of February, though.

There is a photograph of him and my Dutch grandmother at the entrance of Westminster Abbey. There is also one of my grandmother, my mother and my father posing in the grounds of Hampton Court Palace.

These two photographs are over 40 years old.

They will, with careful attention, still be around in 40 years’ time.

That is the beauty of prints. They come with a guarantee that we will be able to view them in the future.

Digital files don’t.

Optical discs corrode.

Hard drives fail.

File formats become obsolete.

If you want to ensure that you will be able to view today’s digital photographs at some point in the future, have prints made at a reputable lab.

A page from my Dutch grand parents' England scrapbook. Still "readable" after 40 years. (c) Roger Overall 2009

I also photographed regularly at the Roman Catholic church in Glandore this year, a venue previously unknown to me. I immediately fell for the place. For a photographer, it’s a wonderful building, with gorgeous light.

Incidentally, during 2009 I also photographed for the first time at the church in which I was married: the Star of the Sea in Ballycotton.

Here are some favourites from Sandra and Eric’s wedding in early September. Lovely people and a great combination of venues.

You guessed it. The Rectory and the RC church at Glandore.

This was taken over at the house where the groom was getting ready. I love the exuberence of the laughter. (c) Roger Overall 2009

I have a thing for mirrors and reflections. Just the way I'm wired, I suppose. There's added interest to the photograph because of the duplication of the bride looking in the mirror and the make-up artist looking at the bride - both their heads are at the same angle. (c) Roger Overall 2009

I also have a thing about placing the main subject way, way, way off centre in my photographs. Again, it's just something that happens instinctively rather than with any forethought. Typically, the subject ends up on the righthand side. We read from left to right, so I think that's the reason for many of my compositions. (c) Roger Overall 2009

See what I mean? (c) Roger Overall 2009

The bride arriving. What I like about this shot are the three phases of light. Dad in full sun light, bride halfway, bridesmaid heading into the darkness. (c) Roger Overall 2009

My favourite moment on any wedding day. Bride and groom finally get to say something to each other. (c) Roger Overall 2009

(c) Roger Overall 2009

A rarity: a posed photograph. How could I not, though with those windows behind? (c) Roger Overall 2009

Well wishers in Glandore. Everyone perks up on a wedding day, even people who have nothing to do with the occasion. Of course, it helps to be sitting outside in the sun with a pint looking out over a fine view (c) Roger Overall 2009

(c) Roger Overall 2009

I love photographing food. And this was a particular treat, because I love cheese too. A new interpretation of what cheesecake should be. (c) Roger Overall 2009

Back to mirrors and reflections again. Starting to wonder if I should seek help. (c) Roger Overall 2009

I’ve just added a gallery to the new website featuring photographs taken at a local bakery. It shows the kind of work we could only dream of when we were children. I mean, imagine how a seven-year-old would react if you told them that this was your day job:

The icing on the cake. A no nonsense approach at the Old Mill Confectionery bakery here in Cork. (c) Roger Overall 2008

Not just because I could stand to lose a few pounds, enjoy bacon and drink beer, but because I sometimes do silly things. Not intentionally. They just creep up on me in moments of mental fog.

Take this year’s entry for the Professional Photographer of the Year Awards here in Ireland. A lot of time and effort goes into qualifying photographs, from which a final panel of four pictures is chosen and entered into a particular category. It’s a process that takes six months. So you’d have to be some kind of numnutz to put in all the hard graft only to slip up on a basic mistake at the end. You’d have to be a real Homer.

That would be me.

Having pulled together a strong panel of commercial photographs, one I thought might just catch the judges’ eyes this year because it hung together so well, I discovered that one of the pictures had a big flaw. A super-sized honker of a fault, big enough for me to decide it would ruin the chances of the entire panel.

So what happened? How did a sub-standard image get entered into the preliminary qualifying judgings in the first place?

Long story short – the IPPA uses an online submission system (which, by the way, is terrific) and I uploaded the wrong version of the image. I should have realized sooner – like when the photograph received a much lower score than I anticipated during the judging. At the time, I put the score down to a lapse of sanity among the judges – something regularly commented upon by photographers. Now I can see they were right and my sloppiness has come home to roost.

Doh!

The final national judging doesn’t allow any room for error. When we get to this stage of the awards process, the stakes are high and only the best work will do. A minor imperfection in a photograph (or indeed a whopper) can undermine the chances of an entire panel, regardless of how good the other three are. So out went the commercial panel and a valuable lesson learned. Entering awards is an exacting process better undertaken by Lisa than Homer.

I’ll still go for the single image award in the commercial category, but that doesn’t have the same cachet. Portfolios is where it is at.

Mercifully, I didn’t have all my eggs in one basket. In fact, out of the three panels I intended to enter, the commercial one was the weakest. I also have panels lined up for the the pictorial/travel and the reportage wedding categories.  The latter is by far my strongest suit. The problem here was reducing a dozen very strong photographs down to a quartet. Artistically, I’ve had a great year, producing my best work yet. Anne and I spent a good bit of time this afternoon discussing various picture combinations for the final panel. We’ll know in February, when the winners are announced, whether we chose the right one.

A grab shot of the layouts we came up with for the 2010 IPPA/RSA Photographer of the Year Awards this afternoon. Only later in the day did I discover the flawed photograph in the Advertising/Commercial panel (c) Roger Overall 2009

It hosed down out of the heavens pretty much 24/7 every day this week. Monsoon-like. Or in the Cork vernacular: monsoon, like.

And there was that incident in Paris.

While the latter hurts, there is no doubt that it is the former that is going to hurt the country more. Businesses will suffer badly. And round our way, we most likely won’t have any fresh tap water for a while because the floods contaminated the water supply.

[As an aside. I do sympathize with the Irish regarding the football. Being half-English, I still feel the pain from the Hand of God. Come to think of it, the other half of me is Dutch. Football fans will know that Holland had its own Argentine nightmare in the World Cup. Similarly, both England and Holland have a thing about Germany. Both also have a rich naval tradition. And produce fine matured cheese ... Hang on ... Isn't it odd how you never see England and Holland in the same room together ...? ... Sorry, got sidetracked there]

By way of a miracle, today was a gorgeous autumnal day. Which was lucky for the couple whose wedding I was photographing. The rain is set to return tomorrow, they say.

Not everything went according to plan, though. I was supposed to start the day photographing the groom in Mallow. For those of you who don’t know, Mallow was built in a river, rather than beside it. A plump swan landing on the river is all it takes for it to burst its banks. Let alone a full-on, multi-day downpour.

So I abandoned that plan and headed straight to Fermoy, where the bride was getting ready. For those of you who don’t know Fermoy, let’s just say that it was built in the river Blackwater rather than beside it …

I arrived early and decided to take some scene-setting shots for my bride and groom.

The river Blackwater in Fermoy, Co. Cork after torrential rainfall over several days. (c) Roger Overall 2009

World's most pointless sign spotted in Fermoy, Co. Cork. (c) Roger Overall 2009

The darker side of all of this is that businesses are going to suffer badly from the flooding, especially as many local SMEs wouldn't have been able to get insurance cover following flooding in previous years. (c) Roger Overall 2009